


Only a Moment

by Zoe1078



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe1078/pseuds/Zoe1078
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie needs his wife. Set during S2E9, Je Suis Prest, directly after Claire and Jamie trick young William Grey into revealing his secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Moment

Where did she go? He needed her, and he needed her now. He only had minutes before he had to leave. He wanted nothing more than to forget the British camp and swive her until they both forgot the world around them, but there was no time, and no way to ignore their reality. This was especially true now that the boy had given them invaluable information, information which could win them the upcoming battle. He knew it was sheer folly to stop for anything, even for Claire, but he couldn’t help himself. Even her knee to his groin had only dampened his need for a minute. Pinning her against the tree had roused a primal instinct within him, an urge to claim and possess. He wanted to take her then and there, but he settled for kissing her since they had an audience. It wasn’t a chivalrous action in the least, but the look of fury on her face that followed only inflamed him more.

When Claire smiled, she was a bonny lass. Light reached her eyes, pink flushed her cheeks, and her whole countenance radiated mirth. He’d never known a woman so clever or so funny. When she laughed, he wanted to hold and kiss her so as to physically feel her happiness, to let the vibrations of her joy radiate through his own body. But in her anger, her singular beauty stunned him to his core. He had never known a woman quite like her, so strong of convictions and so bold as to make them well known. He was inevitably drawn to both sides of her, not to tame or overpower her, but to share in her passion.

Tonight, she had come up with a brilliant ploy to trick young William Grey into revealing his secrets, and had thrown herself so deeply into the performance that she became angered at his reaction. But what did she expect him to do? He had simply played along with the act she’d initiated. She seemed surprised when he actually became aroused by it, which he found amusing. It wasn’t as if his body knew it was only for show when she writhed against him. Plus she knew him, knew what her very presence, or even the simple idea of her, did to him. Didn’t she? He had made no secret of the fact that from the first, he had wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. He hadn’t told her so in order to flatter her. In fact, he had been rather embarrassed to admit it. But he had promised her the truth, and if he wasn’t ready to part with all of his secrets when they had first wed, after she had shared her strange story with him, when she told him from whence she had come, he knew he had to open himself to her as well. It turned out to be the best decision he had ever made, besides agreeing to marry her, which was no sacrifice at all.

Behind him, the men he had chosen to accompany him on the night raid were gathering their things. He was supposed to gather his as well. It gave him a window, a very short one, to find the only thing he truly needed. His wife. 

She hadn’t made it very far and was pacing between the supply wagons, hands on her hips. She startled when he came up behind her and slid one arm around her waist. “Oh!”

He clamped his hand over her mouth to quiet her exclamation. “Shh. The men are still in sight. Don’t draw their attention.” Then he began to lead her toward one of the wagons, nipping and suckling at the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck. 

When he lowered his hand, she whispered, “Jamie, what are you doing? Don’t you have to go?”

“Soon. We have only a moment.” He loved to take his time, to explore her body, to touch and taste and feel, to gradually stoke the fire between them until it blazed. But tonight there was no time, and he was already burning. “I must have ye, Claire.” He bent her over the back of a wagon, lifted her skirts around her waist, and placed his hands on her flesh, kneading and squeezing. He was struck by the succulent sight in front of him, and he couldn’t resist just a taste.

She made a tiny squeal of surprise when his tongue touched her rather than his cock, and he wondered if any of the men had heard her, but the thought was lost as soon as he realized she was just as ready for him as he was for her. She was absolutely delicious. He had lost himself in her flavor the first time he had tasted her, for she was like nothing he had ever tasted or even imagined. It had roused within him a powerful and insatiable appetite, and the mere thought of it caused an immediate, inevitable reaction in his body. He was mightily tempted to stay right here, drinking her in, to remain in their little cocoon of bliss for the night, the week, the year, for the rest of their lives. But the Bonnie Prince had forced his hand, had condemned him to battle, so fight he would. And tonight there was no time. He promised himself he’d give her the attention she deserved as soon as he could.

Now, however, his own body’s needs superceded all others. He stood on shaking legs, pushed up his kilt, and entered her swiftly. This time her cry wasn’t quiet or controlled, nor could he contain his own. The way she felt around him was simply overwhelming, and the sound she made filled him with a kind of desperate joy. He threw his head back and laughed silently, relishing the fact that they were alive, together, and, for the moment, one.

_ Oh, yes.  _ Nothing else in the world could compare to this. Ultimately, it didn’t matter if it lasted seconds, minutes, or hours. This was what he wanted. This was what he needed. This was what he had ached for since he’d been old enough to know what it was to want a woman, a concept that had remained abstract and unformed until the moment she walked into his life, disheveled, half-dressed, and utterly beautiful.  _ Claire _ .

She glanced over her shoulder in confusion. “Jamie?” she gasped. Had he said her name out loud, then? He must have. And from the wide-eyed expression on her face, he realized he must look absolutely crazed. It was just as well, for he was surely mad with lust.  

He grinned down at her before realizing that they had drawn the attention of the men, who peered in their direction through the darkness. No matter. He wouldn’t stop unless one of them dragged him away. But that didn’t mean he wanted any of them to come investigate, for Claire was his to look upon, and his alone. He lowered his torso along her back so that the front of the wagon blocked them from sight. Then he reached one hand out to cover Claire’s mouth with a guttural, “Hush,  _ mo nighean donn _ .” The other hand he stretched out along one of hers to pin her palm against the rough wood, and he began to move. 

It was bliss. She was bliss, and she was his, just as he had belonged to her since before he knew she existed, before she had even arrived in his world. His hips snapped sharply against her lovely curves again and again, and he relished the way her entire body shook with the impact. He buried his face in the wild curls of her hair and breathed her in. He wanted all of his body to sink into hers, not just his cock. If only they could merge entirely. He knew in his mind that this was an impossible goal, but somehow neither his heart nor his body was convinced. He would try, and try, and try, and find elation in the attempt. 

Everything else fell away. The chatter of the men nearby, the smell of woodsmoke, the chill of the air. All else faded. All he knew was the sensation of his wife’s moans against his hand, the tension of her fingers as she clung to the wood beneath them, the taste of her on his tongue, the hot yielding of her quim, the waves of pleasure washing through both of them. He tried to keep the sensations alive in his skin, to carry her with him for the battles ahead. He knew he could not, but he would cradle her heart within his own to warm and sustain him.

And then he felt it, felt her, felt the telltale signs of her climax. This was what he wanted, what he needed, every bit as much as he needed his own release. She began to quiver beneath him. It started in her legs, arched up her spine, and spread all the way to her fingers, rippling through her and over him. Her sex pulsed around his in a primitive rhythm and with distinctive intensity, and in so doing, she drew his greatest pleasure from his core and into hers. As he lost himself, the one thought that remained clear in his brain was visceral pride that something of him would be left in her once he was gone. 

It wasn’t until after, while he lay panting atop her, that he realized he had neglected something important. He reluctantly slipped out of her and drew her up and into his arms, turning her to face him. “I made a mistake, Sassenach.”

“Hmm?” she asked, blinking slowly up at him with a lovely, dazed expression.

“I havena kissed ye properly.” Then he made it up to her, bending over her. Her arms twined round his neck as she accepted his mouth with a little whimper, and he kissed her slowly, deeply, and passionately, as if they had all the time in the world.

Nearby, footsteps approached, and someone coughed loudly to get their attention. Jamie ignored the interloper for several more seconds, unwilling to part from Claire. When he finally did, he gave her a tiny little lick with his tongue against her top lip as a promise for more to come. She buried her face in his neck as he looked up to face one of the men, who didn't quite meet his eyes. “They're waiting...”

Claire reluctantly released him, her hands making their way over his shoulders and down his chest. “Be safe, Jamie,” she whispered.

He caught one of her hands with his and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “My heart and my vow to ye,  _ mo chridhe _ .” And they both knew he promised much more to her than his safety.


End file.
